


While She Sleeps Part 1

by BatWingsandBlackCats



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Broken Up Hollstein, F/F, Fluff, Hollstein - Freeform, Kinda, mentions of smut but not actually smut, pining?, yeah it's pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:36:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4546902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatWingsandBlackCats/pseuds/BatWingsandBlackCats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla can't help but relive some memories when she finds Laura fast asleep on the couch. </p><p>Canon up until S2E16</p>
            </blockquote>





	While She Sleeps Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of a little two part Hollstein break up piece I have going. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy! comments and critiques are always welcome and appreciated, and any kudos are immensely appreciated as well :)  
> thanks for reading!

Carmilla stumbled in through the doorway, cursing under her breath as her head cracked against the doorframe. She’d been out painting the town red with Mattie all night, and had a few too many blood cocktails. She sighed, rubbing her head as she entered the den, intending to flop unceremoniously onto the couch, only to find it occupied. 

_Oh._

Right. 

The thoughts that the blood cocktails had so eagerly shoved away came crashing back, hitting Carmilla like a brick wall. Right. Laura wasn’t upstairs, waiting for Carmilla to crawl into bed beside her. Laura was on the couch. They didn’t share a bed anymore. They didn’t share anything anymore, really, aside from the apartment. 

Carmilla winced, leaning against the wall as she watched Laura’s chest rise and fall with steady breaths through her somewhat cloudy vision. According to the bio major, Laura hadn’t slept in the master bedroom since Carmilla had stormed out, which the vampire thought was rather odd until she’d gone upstairs only to find that she was drowning in Laura from the second she stepped foot into the room. She caught her own scent as well, but Laura’s lavender and leather was _deafening_.

This was one of the few times she was grateful for the fact that she didn’t have to breathe. It was the only way she could survive sleeping in that room. 

She didn’t breathe a whole lot, these days. Her clothes still smelled like Laura considering their ‘wardrobe’ had been a shared pile of clothes in front of the closet. (Laura had given up trying to hang the clothes up after the first week of their stay in the Dean’s apartment. There had been better things to do. Although, she did manage to keep the rest of the room somewhat tidy. Not that Carmilla helped.) to Carmilla’s heightened senses, Laura was _everywhere._

And now her scent was mixed with vodka from the solo cup in her hand. 

Wonderful. 

Carmilla was so _angry_ , and yet she couldn’t stop her heart from squeezing tightly whenever she saw the little human, or forgot and took a deep breath and smelled her lavender and leather and her natural scent, which had always made Carmilla feel a little drunk. She loved Laura desperately, with her entire existence, and it was ripping her apart. 

Laura was curled up on the couch, with a blanket half falling off of her, and her yellow pillow shoved under her head. It looked horribly uncomfortable, her neck bent at an odd angle and her legs folded up in order for her to fit on the the couch’s severely lacking amount of leg room. Carmilla sighed as she watched her. She wanted nothing more than to just pick her up, tuck that beautiful face under her chin, bring her up to bed, and forget about all of this. 

She missed laying in bed and watching Laura pace at the foot of the bed, rambling and ranting about whatever happened to be going on during that day, or a show she just watched or a fanfic chapter she’d just read. The nights where Laura would shuffle into their room, her nose shoved in a notebook filled with notes despite her being half asleep, and how she’d weakly protest and then give up when Carmilla would gently tug the notebook out of her grasp, toss it onto a nearby table, and lead her to bed. One night she’d actually fallen asleep at the desk downstairs, and Carmilla had carried her upstairs. 

Other nights they’d race upstairs, (sometimes Carmilla would let her win, sometimes she wouldn’t) and barge in through their bedroom door, and Laura would promptly push Carmilla up against the closed door and kiss her senseless, much to the ginger twin’s dismay. _That_ was always entertaining. 

Sometimes Carmilla would wake up from nightmares about the coffin or nightmares about Laura being the one to fall into the pit instead of herself, only to find Laura hovering over her, calling her name with those soft, warm, leather scented hands cradling her face. 

Sometimes it was the other way around. 

Laura would insist on staying up with her after nightmares, lighting candles and incense bringing her a glass of blood. She wouldn’t push it when Carmilla couldn’t talk, opting to sit beside her silently or rub her back or talk about anything other than blood and splintered wood and ancient mothers and bottomless pits and soul consuming swords. 

Then there were the early mornings they’d fall asleep, naked bodies tangled around one another, exhausted and hair a mess but both utterly blissful. (Carmilla had been to countless cathedrals and museums all over the world and she had never in her life seen something so beautiful or so holy as Laura laid out against the pillows, chest heaving and hands trembling as Carmilla’s name fell from her lips.) 

Carmilla squeezed her eyes shut. No. No, she shouldn’t be thinking of all of this. She stared down into her cup for a moment before throwing back the last of the blood and vodka that sat in it, hissing as it burned down he throat. She needed to stop thinking of this. Laura didn’t love her. She’d never said it back, despite not protesting when Carmilla had said that they were in love. 

Not protesting didn’t equate reciprocated feelings. 

Loneliness was her fate, it seemed. 

She should have known.

Carmilla pushed herself off the doorframe, and slowly walked into the kitchen, dumping her cup in the trash. Leaving it lying about wasn’t worth the shit she’d get from ginger twin number two. (She didn’t have the patience and it would make Laura hate her even more if she went ahead and ripped out Pippi Longstocking’s throat. Not that she gave a damn what Laura thought anymore.) She debated for a moment before grabbing the bottle of bourbon from the counter and walked as gracefully as she could back into the den, staring at Laura once again. She’d shifted, her arm hanging off the side of the couch, her hair falling over her face. She was mumbling in her sleep, and a smile that couldn’t be held back cracked Carmilla’s lips. 

She took a swig of bourbon. 

Laura was a talkitive sleeper most nights. She’d mumble about crows and her father and her friends most nights. Sometimes she’d whimper about car crashes and twisted metal and broken glass and her mother and those whimpers would become cries and flailing limbs until Carmilla could wake her up. 

Carmilla’s name always came out in a sigh. 

Carmilla walked forward, footsteps dampened by the plush carpet, and stood over the sleeping human. No matter how angry she was with Laura, Laura who couldn’t see past her ‘good’ deeds and who refused to see her as the monster she was, she couldn’t help loving her. 

She couldn’t help the fact that this little human made her dead heart beat just a little louder. 

Carmilla sighed in defeat as she reached out, gently pushing Laura’s hair away from her face. Laura’s eyelids twitched and she heaved a sigh, but otherwise didn’t move. Carmilla watched her, deliberating for a moment before she leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to Laura’s forehead, leaving a small smear of blood and bourbon behind. 

She turned and walked out of the room, disappearing into a cloud of black smoke after crossing the threshold. 

She didn’t hear what Laura sighed after she left. 

“Carm...love you...”

**Author's Note:**

> I've tried sleeping on a couch very similar to the one Laura's been sleeping on. Worst sleeping arrangement experience of my life, and I've tried sleeping in one of those reclining chairs in the hospital. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading!!  
> feel free to swing by [my Tumblr ](http://batwingsandblackcats.tumblr.com/) if you want to drop a prompt, or just want to say hi! I'd love to talk with you guys :)


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